


Twenty Questions

by crieshavoc



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, cophine - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:43:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crieshavoc/pseuds/crieshavoc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Felix bails as Alison and Donnie’s date night sitter, Cosima and Delphine rise to the occasion. Set roughly a year from the end of s2.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Twenty Questions

                Cosima steps up to the front door and rings the bell, chuckling at the immediate sound of small, thudding footsteps from inside. Beside her, Delphine fidgets, biting her lip and repeatedly clenching and unclenching the hand she holds her cigarettes in.

                The door opens quickly, revealing Oscar and Gemma’s smiling faces. Neither child spares their aunts a glance, pushing past them both and looking around excitedly. After a moment, Oscar turns back with a fierce pout.

                “Where’s Uncle Felix?” He asks, hands fisted on his hips in an oddly on point imitation of his mother.

                Gemma turns from scanning the street and crosses her arms, slouching, looking expectantly to the pair of scientists.

                Delphine looks nervously at her girlfriend, eyes screaming _I told you this was a bad idea_.

                Clearing her throat, Cosima smiles at Alison’s kids, “He, ah, got called into work. Totally last minute,” she spreads her hands in what she hopes is a placating manner as the younger Hendrixes continue to glare at her and the nervous blonde. “This is your Aunt Delphine, my girlfriend,” she gestures to her left and Delphine stands straight as Oscar and Gemma give her a once over. “We’re filling in for Uncle Felix.”

                Gemma sighs loudly and tromps back into the house without a word.

                Oscar is still pouting, but pushes both women inside ahead of him. “Mom didn’t tell us. You’re our Aunt Cosima, right? You’re both doctors or something?”

                They all stop in the living room, where Gemma has resorted to a coloring book and bright markers. She concentrates, blocking her brother and aunts out entirely, hoping to make a good enough picture to show Uncle Felix next time. The markers bleed through the paper if she presses too hard, so she tries to remember not to.

                Cosima glances at Delphine again, smiling a bit at Oscar’s pained politeness, “We’re biologists, loosely. I’m an evolutionary biologist and Delphine is an immunologist.” Leaning on the arm of the couch, she adds, “That basically means that we went to college _forever_ , but Delphine also went to medical school because she’s awesome like that.”

                Delphine’s grateful smile and the visible loosening of her shoulders are worth the apathy her description receives from Oscar.

                The elder Hendrix child nods like he understands, looking off toward the kitchen. “What are we having for dinner?”

                “We can make something or order in, perhaps a pizza?” Delphine says, trying to leave her awkwardness behind. Babysitting has never been her idea of a good time, but Cosima _insisted_ on helping Alison and Donnie out when Felix cancelled on them.

                Oscar starts, giving Delphine his full attention.

                Behind them, Gemma looks up from her project, a marker cap between her teeth.

                “You’re French,” Oscar says softly, almost reverently.

                “Ah, yes, _oui_ ,” Delphine smiles, awkwardness back in full force. She nods for good measure.

                Gemma crawls across the couch, leaning on Cosima’s shoulder to stare at the tall blonde woman standing across from her big brother. “Mom never said you were French.”

                “Are you from Quebec?”

                “Do you like Canada?”

                “Why’d you go to college _and_ medical school?”

                “Have you ever been to Montreal?”

                “What’s Paris like?”

                “Why do you speak English?”

                “Do you have a French bulldog?”

                “Have you seen _Les Mis_?”

                “Do you like French or English better?”

                “Do you like France or Canada better?”

                “Will you and Aunt Cosima get married here or in France?”

                “Does your family know about our family?”

                “Do your parents have French bulldogs?”

                “Do you know any famous French people?”

                “Do you like tennis or soccer better?”

                “Do you call it soccer or football?”

                “Do you still feel weird about Germans? You know, because of World War II and stuff?”

                “Do you read in French or in English?”

                “If I take French in school would you help me with my homework?”

                “Can we have French food for dinner?”

                “Do you think mom will let us get a French bulldog?”

                Oscar looks to his sister with the last question, both children finally taking a second to breathe. Gemma thinks for a moment and shrugs with a hopeful smile.

                Cosima manages not to burst out laughing, her face pink from the _wedding location_ question. She grins at Delphine, waiting to see if her girlfriend will field any of the rapid-fire questions sent her way.

                Delphine takes a deep breath and nods, resolutely. She gestures for Oscar to sit on the couch and, herself, takes a seat across from her future-sister-in-law’s children.

                “I am not from Quebec, _non_ , but Montreal is a beautiful city. I’ve been there a few times and I always enjoy it because it does remind me a bit of home. I _love_ Canada, except for how cold it gets. I went to college and to medical school because as an immunologist, I need to understand how and why people get sick and how I can help them get better,” she glances at Cosima, and lets her face relax into a smile, “so I made sure I learned how from a _science_ perspective and a _medical_ perspective. Both is better.”

                Oscar and Gemma both lean forward, totally engrossed in listening.

                “Paris is hard to describe, _especially_ in English, so I’ll just have to take all of you there someday and show you. I speak English because it is the best language to know if you travel around the world – in many countries you can find somebody who speaks it. French is much the same way, but having two languages is more useful. And with my old job, before I moved to Canada, I did travel frequently.”

                Cosima quirks a brow. They’d never talked much about Delphine’s professional life before she was assigned to be a monitor. _Following up on that later_ , she thought.

                “…Though I think one of my cousins may have a bulldog. I’m not sure. There are other dog breeds native to France, ah, like the Poodle, the Basset Hound, the, um, Brittany, and the Great Pyrenees. We had a Basset when I was little. He was a great dog.” Delphine grins, glancing away from the awed faces in front of her to Cosima’s smiling face. With a shy laugh, she continues to answer, “I have not seen _Les Mis_ , but I have read the book. It’s very, very long. I like French better because it is my mother tongue and it is so much more passionate than English. France will always be my first home, but I really do love it here, too.” Another shy glance at Cosima.

                Delphine swallows, eyes drifting away from her girlfriend’s eager, impossibly sultry gaze. “My family doesn’t know about yours, not yet. I’m not all that close with my parents, and life has been very busy the last two years.” She forces herself to keep smiling, mind shifting immediately away from memories of metal doors and harsh voices and the sound of Helena’s child wailing in the night. “I like tennis and _football_ , but I am terrible at sports. I run for exercise, but I don’t really find it fun. I do not dislike Germany or German people as a rule, but I would not like to live there again. Oh, I don’t know anyone famous, _non_. I can read in English, but reading in French is easier. Effortless. If either of you take French in school I would _love_ to help you with your work. Especially with your pronunciation.”

                Cosima snorts, knowing she’s being insulted in jest, and lets the comment slide in favor of another. “You skipped a question.”

                Delphine feigns surprise. “Did I? Oh, yes, well, I’m a terrible cook, so we should probably stick to pizza.”

                Gemma leans around Oscar, whose attention is still on Delphine, to look over at her dreadlocked aunt. She looks back at the leggy blonde, saying slowly, “You _still_ skipped a question, Aunt Delphine.”

                Delphine shakes her head, “ _Non_ , Gemma. That question is for your Aunt Cosima to answer, when the time comes. It will be her choice.”

                Cosima’s heart melts and she turns away to hide her blush from the kids. Without looking back in her girlfriend’s direction, she says dryly, “Took you long enough, but you have finally taken that lesson to heart, huh?”

                “Yes, I have,” Delphine responds simply, a gentle look on her face.

                Oscar and Gemma look at each other and shrug, silently assuming some weird adult-only speak is happening.

                “Will you help us convince Mom and Dad to get a dog?” Oscar asks, hopeful.

                Gemma nods enthusiastically and holds out her hands, fingers laced in a pleading gesture.

                Cosima laughs, cutting in before Delphine can reply, “We’ll see what we can do. Now, what kind of pizza do you two want?” She spares a glance at her girlfriend, and sees how far they’ve come, together.


End file.
